The Boogyman

I lived in the dorms for a year.

Big, ugly gray rectangles, east to west length, stacked full of boxes.

There was a long row of sinks with a long mirror above them and lockers behind.

Gray-white tiles, tall opaque windows opened out onto the bar across the street. Some nights there would be blue and red lights flashing.

I’d be up late some nights and have to shower in those little stalls. Like toilet stalls but showers, prefab, black, with a sliding bolt.

I was scared shitless of those bathrooms.

Something about the unlit stalls and the tiled walls.

I had three friends and on most nights at least one would accompany me to shower. They would shower in the next stall over from mine to keep me company, and the bathroom terrors away.

Humoring the resident genius child with her wide smile and her silly fear of the dark, and bathrooms.

Graham?

Yes?

Did you really peek?

Yep.
The best part was when you had your soap puff and you squeezed it and sudsy water ran down your front.

Oh.